The Scarab of Kul Elna
by Higurazel
Summary: 20 Years after the events of the Yu-Gi-Oh! TV series, Insector Haga purchases an interesting artefact unearthed on an Egyptian dig, unaware of its original creator or purpose. Velcroshipping  Insector Haga X Thief King Bakura


(Author's Note: This story takes place roughly 20 years after the end of the Yu-Gi-Oh! TV series)

**Domino City Auction House & Art Gallery**

**06:25 p.m.**

**16th April**

"Going once. Going twice. Sold to the gentleman from Tokyo."

A gavel crashed down, mixing into a light patter of sycophantic applause from the assembled crowd. At the head of the room, behind the auctioneer's podium, a small marble statuette was carefully lifted and placed into a tiny chest and carried away.

"And now for our next lot," the auctioneer motioned as a box the size of a human fist was brought forward and placed on the viewing plinth. "This item has travelled all the way from Egypt to be with us today. Estimated to have been crafted almost five thousand years ago, this delightful little decoration will make an excellent addition to the home of any collector or aspiring Egyptologist."

The box was opened, revealing a black velvet interior, the item for sale nestled in the centre. Gold that had been suspiciously well preserved, or at least expertly restored and fashioned into the shape of a three inch long scarab beetle. Every curve of the shell, every indentation and every segmented connection of the body had been crafted with an eye to perfection. Perhaps even obsessively so. The eyes, black and glinting, stood out from the rest of the piece, turning their bottomless gaze in all directions.

"Bidding starts at Two Thousand." Due to a combination of many foreign clients and the proprietors own peculiarities, the auctions here were always conducted in US dollars. A flurry of bids began up, as they always did, speeding ever upwards until they tapered off at the six thousand mark. The room grew quieter, a few mumbles where clients discussed whether they could match the current bid.

"Going onc-"

"Seven thousand." Came a voice from the head of the seated crowd. All eyes turned in its direction, all voices stopped, all wondering whether to weigh in on the bidding had stopped. All that was left was the wait for the once, twice and...

"Sold! To Mr. Haga!" The same, weak applause began again as the auctioneer motioned for the box to be removed from the stage. "And might I add sir that I look forward to seeing this little gem on display at the museum."

Insector Haga said nothing, offering instead the barest hint of a smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Domino City Museum of Natural History<strong>

**10:40 p.m.**

**16th April**

A fort of paperwork surrounded Haga as he sat at his desk. It had mounted up over the last few days, each one being put off until they had piled up into an unstoppable force of checklists and "sign here"s. He ran a weary hand through thick green hair and sighed. Every so often his gaze drifted over to the black box atop one of the paperwork towers. He tried to justify the purchase to himself, mentally reciting over and over again that he had plenty of left-over winnings from his Duelling days. The museum that Ryuzaki and he ran was doing well and the scarab may even make for an excellent exhibit. He stumbled over that last part. It was jewellery, not exactly natural history. He made a note to find a way to fudge that detail, and seek out somewhere amongst his impressive beetle collection for the ornament to take pride of place. Without even truly thinking about it, Haga began to reach for the box.

"You're still here?"

The voice pulled him back to his senses. Dinosaur Ryuzaki, another former duelling champion and co-owner of the Domino City Museum of Natural History. He and Haga had both poured their passions for Dinosaurs and Insects respectively into this project. Long years of which had culminated in an exceptionally successful venture. Both of them agreed that it didn't quite match the stardom of their duelling days, but that such times had certainly passed.

"I might ask you the same question," Haga stretched back in his chair, "I've at least got the excuse of being horribly behind on paperwork. I thought you'd cleared all yours up."

"Yeah, I had to come back to pick up a few things." Ryuzaki's eyes fixed on the black box. "And what exactly is that?"

"Just a little something I picked up today." Haga reached over and opened the box, showing the contents to his partner. "Caught my eye."

"A beetle? God forbid you ever pick out something that might be a surprise."

"A little rich coming from you," Haga nodded towards the other man's pocket. The top half of a Duel Monsters trading card jutted out, quickly being slipped back inside by an embarrassed Ryuzaki. "It's been twenty years since we were champs, y'know that?"

"I guess old habits die hard." Ryuzaki grinned, patting his pocket and heading for the door. "Anyway, I'll see you Monday. Best of luck with..." He motioned vaguely to the piles of paper before leaving Haga alone once again.

He sat unmoving for what seemed like hours, staring down at the sheet of paper in front of him. All he needed to do was sign his name, but he found himself unable to move the pen, his mind churning through a thick haze. He could feel his aching eyes turning on that box. Still open. He turned it around slowly, turning his vision onto the scarab inside. In that same haze, he found himself reaching into the box, fingertips grazing against the velvet, gently brushing across its surface and closing around the golden ornament.

The pain was momentary. A tiny pinprick against the skin of Haga's fingers. He had just enough time to shout out his surprise and drop the scarab before the numbness set in. A cold and hoary sensation flooded through his arm, his blood thickening, crawling. It felt like a line of ants running through his veins, scrabbling about on the inside of his skin. Within a handful of seconds, he was passed out in his chair.

* * *

><p><strong>?<strong>

Sand snaked its way around Haga's body, sliding over his face as he lay pressed against the earth. He could hear the wind passing over his one ear that wasn't submerged in coarse, cool sand. With all the serenity and grace of someone waking from far too much sleep, he began to pull himself up and opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, and he pawed about in the sand for his glasses, quickly snatching them up and putting them on. His energy was returning to him, mingling with fright and adrenaline as he took in his surroundings.

Sand.

In every direction, miles upon miles of sand. Veritable oceans of the stuff. It stretched towards a horizon where it met a sky so pale and bright as to be almost white. Another gust of wind ruffled his hair and made him squint against the hard flecks that buffetted his face.

"Not exactly who I was expecting, I must admit." The voice had come from behind him. Impossible. He'd looked in all directions, there had been nothing but endless plains of-

He turned, looking straight into a pair of dark, feral eyes. The speaker was wrapped in a crimson robe, bare chested and with bandages on his limbs. He smiled a dangerous, predatory smile as he took a step back, looking Haga up and down. "I suppose you'll have to do then." He muttered.

"What the hell is this?" Haga motioned around at the infinite desert surrounding them. "Where am I?" The stranger was about ready to answer when he was cut off pre-emptively. "Are you one of that Dartz's lackeys? Is he still sending people out after all this time?"

"I'm afraid I'm not entirely sure who you mean. You see thi-"

"Dartz. Suited man. Heterochromia. Orichalchos cards. Anything ringing a bell?"

The stranger's tone suddenly changed. He seemed wary. "You know of the Atlantean?"

"If that's him, then yes. Do you?"

"We don't speak of the Atlantean."

"Where am I?" Haga repeated, shouting as though he were trying to be heard by someone over the horizon.

"Well that's entirely based upon how you got here." The stranger replied, waving his hand dismissively. "How did you end up here?"

"I..." Haga hesitated. Did he want to give this man the whole story? He couldn't be trusted, that much was for sure. But in all fairness, what choice did he have? "A scarab. A golden scarab. I bought it at an auction. It... I think it-"

"Bit you? Yes, that sounds about right." The stranger chuckled and took a seat on the ground. "In that case, welcome to the inside of the Scarab of Kul Elna."

"Inside the scarab."

"Correct. Your soul is now safely contained within that little trinket."

"Trapped. Again." Haga flopped down opposite the stranger and let out a long sigh. "And I had all that paperwork to finish."

"You're taking this pretty well. Most people might have more of a problem with their soul being relocated to an inanimate object."

"Its not my first time." Haga told him. "So what about you? Did you get bitten too?"

"Oh nonono," The stranger chuckled again. He was clearly glad to back in the informed seat for the conversation. "My being here is down to a somewhat botched attempt at relocating a portion of my own soul into an object. That part worked, but I was unable to retrieve the aforementioned portion."

"Why would you put part of your soul into a Scarab?"

"To make sure it worked of course. Wouldn't do me much good having a phylactery for transferring souls and not know whether it worked or not."

"Wait, so you bought the scarab too?"

"Again you're misunderstanding me, it seems. I built the Scarab."

Haga fought the initial urge to scream or to shout or to reach out and throttle the stranger. So it was his fault that he was stuck here. His fault that once again he was trapped inside some unmoving decoration until someone saw fit to release him. Screaming, shouting and murder were all routes that would get him no closer to escape though.

"So, how do I get out?"

"Get out? You're not too bright, my strange little companion. I didn't know how to get souls _out _of the scarab five thousand years ago. The fact that I'm still here after all that time means that either the rest of me never figured it out. Or he... I mean_ I _did and didn't bother to follow it up or tell anyone. I'll be honest, either sounds like a likely scenario."

"How do you know it's been five thousand years? If there's been no contact with the outside world-"

"Never underestimate a soul's ability to count." The stranger told him, giving a smirk that told Haga _"This is the most helpful answer you'll get, no matter how hard you try."_

Both of them remained silent for a while, sitting in the sand, necks craned up to observe the sky. Bright and yet Sunless.

"I'm Haga," in times of great stress, introductions always helped.

"Bakura," The stranger replied.

"So... What happens now?"

"Well, I can't say for certain. The original plan was for the scarab to start breaking down the memories of its victim, searching to make sure their body would make for a good host for my- I mean, _another _soul."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that over the next few thousand years we'll be spending together, you'll most likely begin to revert through the memories of earlier on in your life. Perhaps even revert to how you were as a younger man or as a young boy."

"Trapped. In here. With you. As my younger self. With no trading cards and no insects." Haga sucked in a long breath and stared harder into the sky. "Here's hoping Ryuzaki figures out how to get me out of here."

"This Ryuzaki of yours may too end up becoming a victim of the Scarab."

"Then I sincerely hope he brings decks. For all our sakes."


End file.
